Obscure joys of parenthood
Alice is now nearly 20 months old. She walks (since she was 1), she talks (a lot, vocab = scary) and occasionally falls on her face.
She just tripped over something, possible a nothing, and was settling in for a little moany-do on the floor (I'm not a callous mother, but it was only a little bump and she wasn't crying or anything).
Me - "Do you need a hankie?" - having just found where she'd hidden it.
"Do you need a tortoise?" - having bought her a small plastic toy one yesterday.
"Do you need a tortoise in a hankie?
I then wrapped the tortoise in the hankie and handed it to her.
Alice - "Oooh, tortoise, hankie!" - sits down to play with same.
On a semi-related note. On Sunday I attend my local Quaker meeting with Alice, where I was taking the children's meeting (sort of like Sunday school but much more relaxed). I taught five 4-10 year olds about climate, global warming, biodiversity, and the ice age - all via the medium of Noah's Ark.
She just tripped over something, possible a nothing, and was settling in for a little moany-do on the floor (I'm not a callous mother, but it was only a little bump and she wasn't crying or anything).
Me - "Do you need a hankie?" - having just found where she'd hidden it.
"Do you need a tortoise?" - having bought her a small plastic toy one yesterday.
"Do you need a tortoise in a hankie?
I then wrapped the tortoise in the hankie and handed it to her.
Alice - "Oooh, tortoise, hankie!" - sits down to play with same.
On a semi-related note. On Sunday I attend my local Quaker meeting with Alice, where I was taking the children's meeting (sort of like Sunday school but much more relaxed). I taught five 4-10 year olds about climate, global warming, biodiversity, and the ice age - all via the medium of Noah's Ark.